In love with a Dream
by Crysta1
Summary: Sorry bout the delay guys!Chapter4 posted!!What happens when a woman who has wandered through Hawk's dreams since childhood and has since become much more than a playmate shows up at the 4077 as the dream's concious twin?feedbak is a girl's best friend!!
1. Visits in the night

****He walks into a darkened room, lit only by candlelight, and can see nothing. Then she comes out, almost luminescent. Some nights, they sit and talk like a normal couple, about life, philosophies, medicine, the past, the present, and the future. They stay up all night talking, until the candles run low and the bottle of wine she had chilled is empty.  
  
But tonight is not one of those nights.  
  
Tonight, as soon as she enters the room from behind him silently, he can sense her presence, and turns to greet her, opening his mouth for verbal introduction.  
  
But she has other plans.  
  
She places a hand gently on his mouth, averting all speech and giving him the signal that there will be no words tonight. Tonight will be their night of romance and remembrance.  
  
He leans forward and presses his lips against her soft full ones, tangling his hands in her blazing hair as she steps into the curve of his body, fitting against him like a piece of a puzzle.  
  
She smiles against his mouth, and walks him slowly backward to a bed, unforeseen before. Lips still up against his, she reaches down and begins to unbutton the shirt he is wearing, brushing his chest with butterfly wings as she moves. Each time she touches him tiny sparks feel as though they have ignited on his skin, and his breath quickens, much to his dismay. He likes to be able to keep a cool tone with women, trying to maintain the idea that this is just old news for him. But she knows better.  
  
And she smiles her secretive smile down at him as he loses control of his own being slightly faster as her hands drop down further and undo clasps, buttons and snaps that bar the way to the rest of his body.  
  
Once she finishes, her mouth trails away from his and sinks down over his chest, planting gentle drops and making him crazy. She knows just how to touch him to ensure that he can't let her continue, but can't let her stop either. Years of this should make him know that it is a lost cause, but still he tries to keep some semblance of calm as she hits the pressure points, staring up at the ceiling in an attempt to catch his breath, not able to look down but needing so desperately too.  
  
Finally, his self restraint fades completely and he grasps her shoulders, pulling her up from where she had just been planting tantalizing kisses down his stomach. In another moment, she would have killed him completely, and he wanted to have rational thought tonight, to be able to show her he could be a suitable partner for her.  
  
He turned her over and lay her down, softly running his fingers along her already bare midriff, and began to kiss her as well. She laughed throatily as he blew gently against her ear, tickling the hair that fell down over it and entrancing him further as she looked back into his eyes, gazing into their crystalline depths. He looked questioningly at her, wondering if she would say anything.  
  
She tried to tell him something, but gave up with a soft huff as his hand started to travel along her curves again, making speech impossible.  
  
............. He lay on top of her, his dark head resting on her chest, listening to her heartbeat as she stroked his hair, as lightly and as soothingly as his mother had so many years ago. His worries had dissolved pleasantly into the distance, and all he concentrated on now was the ankles entwined with his own, and the slender hand that comforted him. Something in him made him feel like this moment could last forever.  
  
He lifted his head and looked into her face again, taking in her long lashes, fanned out over emerald eyes, beset in a face completely clear and unscathed. Her countenance was surrounded by fiery red hair, the likes of which had never been seen in any time before. Her hair was like tamed fire, and was at the moment damp around the edges from perspiration.  
  
She looked back down at him, and brushed the stray lock of hair from his forehead.  
  
"Get up," she ordered softly, with a cooing voice that even the doves themselves would envy.  
  
"I want to stay here with you," he whispered childishly, pulling himself more tightly around her form.  
  
She shook her head. "Here is gone. You need to get up. You need to wake up."  
  
He pushed himself up slightly and looked at her in disappointment. "I'm dreaming."  
  
"You always dream, Hawkeye. I am a dream. I've been a dream ever since you were a child."  
  
Hawkeye smiled slightly. "Even when I was ten I had a crush. Why don't you ever age?"  
  
"You don't want me to age. Dreams don't age. Now wake up."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`  
  
Hawkeye woke up with a groan in his cot, cursing blindly as the sun shone through the screen. From the next bunk, he heard BJ stirring, and figured choppers were on the way. She was right. He needed to go. 


	2. Strange Familiar Faces

The wounded were bad that day, but not particularly haggering, considering the usual load. As usual, Hawkeye put her out of his mind and had pretty much resumed his normal wise-cracking self when a very interesting case came in.  
  
"She's the new nurse we ordered about a month ago," Colonel Potter explained grimly, looking at the body lying in front of Hawkeye's table. "On the way in, her jeep hit a landmine and sent her sailing."  
  
Hawkeye nodded and accepted a new pair of gloves from a nurse. "But she made it as a patient instead of a nurse."  
  
"She sure did look down both barrels of the gun, didn't she?"  
  
"She sure did."  
  
Hawkeye turned to the body in front of him, and looked over the sheet to see the face of the woman he was about to dig into, and stopped cold, unable to form speech. BJ handed his clamp to his nurse and gave instructions to close, and walked around to see what had muted his friend.  
  
"Hawk?" he asked hesitantly, peering into his eyes.  
  
"You wondered what that girl in my dreams looks like?"  
  
BJ nodded blandy, not comprehending what was being said.  
  
"Well, take a good look, because Lieutenant Sherman is the living likeness.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Right." Hawkeye took a deep breath and shivered with a chill that was not cold induced.  
  
"Do you want me to take her?" BJ asked softly, genuinely. He hadn't seen his friend this scared since--- he's never seen his friend look this scared. He was twisting his hands absentmindedly through each other, and his eyes were wider than they normally were.  
  
Hawkeye looked up, registering that a voice was speaking to him, and shook his head. "No, I'll take her. Somehow, I feel like I owe her something."  
  
BJ nodded silently and turned back to his own patient. Hawkeye stared at the countenance below him for another moment before accepting the scalpel the nurse provided. 


	3. Puzzles On the Beach

**** When he walked through her infamous door later on that night, he found himself on a beach, shortly before sunset. The sun's orange glow illuminated the sand, and he skimmed the water's edge for her. While she herself was nowhere to be found, Hawkeye could tell she was around somewhere. She had left her towel on the beach, and music from the radio she had pinned the blanket down with wafted towards him.  
  
He turned around and looked at the west side of the beach, when a voice coming from the direction of the blanket commented, "Sounds like you had an interesting day."  
  
He spun around and looked at her, where she had apparently materialized from thin air. Today's ensemble was slightly different from the last; her midriff was still bare and her bikini was blue, instead of the deep red it had been yesterday. What spare material there was on this outfit clung to her arms and legs, obviously wet.  
  
"I wish you wouldn't do that."  
  
"Do what?"  
  
"Pop into my dream like that."  
  
"I went for a swim!" she answered indignantly.  
  
"In that?" he asked, motioning towards her swimsuit.  
  
"Did you really think I would be allowed into your head with a one piece?"  
  
Hawkeye smiled at that. It was true, he loved women in bikinis.  
  
"All right, all right, I give. So why are we here?"  
  
"Because it reminds you of home."  
  
"Oh, right."  
  
There was a silence for a moment, and Hawkeye started to feel uncomfortable just standing there, so he walked over and sat down on the blanket next to her.  
  
"And this is also my favorite place," she added.  
  
"Your favorite place? We've never been here before. You take me to the lagoon."  
  
She smiled secretively and played with the edge of the material. "Well, I need somewhere to go when you're awake."  
  
"How can that be, if you're a dream."  
  
"The inside of your head is a very complex place, Hawkeye."  
  
"You just say that so I feel like you're always with you."  
  
"Right. Works too."  
  
The silence lengthened, before Hawkeye cleared his throat. "Who is she, Brooke?"  
  
She turned around and looked into his eyes, amusement hinting at the corner of her mouth. "That's maybe the third time in your life you've called my by my name."  
  
"Who is she?" he repeated softly.  
  
"You think I know?" she answered, motioning to herself.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Well, I don't. Hawkeye, my business with you is from rivalry to dawn, and whenever you happen to nod off in between. I have no business with what goes on in your life."  
  
"But you always know what's going on," he said vaguely, looking away from her and out into the water.  
  
"Hawk, all I know is what goes on in your life, in your thoughts. Because I am your thoughts. I'm in your head day in and day out. You created everything about me, remember? Whatever you wanted, you could have. If you wanted me to grow two inches, measure me tonight and then measure me next time you see me, and I'll be taller. If you wanted me to age, I would. Now go somewhere else and dream, because I have other things to do."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Like this!" she answered, and punctuated the last syllable by shoving Hawkeye off the blanket, and onto---  
  
The floor. He landed on the ground with a resounding thump and groaned as he lay on his back, looking up at the canvas ceiling.  
  
"Hawk?" a familiar voice asked from across the tent.  
  
"Mmmmhmmm?"  
  
"You ok?"  
  
"Well, either I just had a very interesting dream, or I'm doing an article for Reader's Digest about dingy tent ceilings. You decide."  
  
He heard the creak of the cot as his friend sat up and switched on a light, groggy eyed but awake.  
  
"Dream about her?"  
  
Hawkeye sat up. "Yea, a dream about her."  
  
"You want to tell me about her?"  
  
Hawkeye hoisted himself back up to the bed and reached out for a martini glass. "All right, I'll tell you about her."  
  
AUTHOR's NOTE: And we'll be back after our commercial break. Bon soi! 


	4. An Introduction For things to come

* * * * * * * * * * Hawkeye pushed himself up onto the cot and poured himself a martini. "Once upon a time," he started mildly, drifting off into memories.  
  
A small child sat underneath blankets, smelling his mother's familiar scent of lavender and cinnamon on the afghan she had knitted, as well as the small bed and pillow she had fluffed and folded every day for the past ten years. Now something was wrong.  
  
Hawkeye knew his mother was dead. But dead was just a word to him. He knew that death was something very bad, because it was always what his dad had talked about when he came home late from work, that dejected slump in his shoulders as Mom hugged him gently and lead him to the couch, directing Hawkeye to go cheer his father up while she fixed brandy in the next room.  
  
He knew death was bad. But until now, he had never understood it. Because death had never happened to him. it had always been a distant term. Now, the pieces of the puzzle were finally together, as he sat under the blanket with his mother all around him, but not really there. Death was being gone.  
  
And now he understood. So mixed in with the scent of lavender and cinnamon became the scent of tears and grief as a little motherless child sank back onto his pillow and drifted off to sleep. ~~~  
  
~~~~ Dreaming in color was something that came very naturally to Hawkeye; he had a vivid imagination and spent time concocting little stories that he eventually dreamed into a state of subconscious.  
  
Tonight, his dream involved him underneath a table, looking out into a homey looking kitchen. A stove across the room crackled heartily, and the room smelled of vanilla. 'Why am I hiding under the table?'  
  
Footsteps came into the kitchen and Hawkeye could see a set of tiny, barefooted feet walking across the wooded floor, padding gently as they walked by the table, stopped, and reworked themselves to the table again.  
  
The adjacent legs bent gracefully and a very lovely woman leaned down to where Hawkeye was curled up under the table.  
  
"Hawkeye," the lady said gently. "You can come out now." She coaxed him softly and pulled him out of the table to sit at it, whilst she turned to tend to the stove again.  
  
Hawkeye looked at her, perplexed, as she moved gracefully about the kitchen, her red checkered dress swaying in time with her steps. Her hair was swept up into a simple ponytail, but it glowed warmly against the flames of the stove.  
  
"What are you cooking?" Hawkeye asked. His voice was high and childlike, not yet reaching the deep alto he would become later on.  
  
"Cookies, Hawkeye. They'll be done in a minute," came the answer.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
"Brooke, sweetie. I came to help you after what happened the last few days."  
  
"How did you know about my." The words would not come out, and Hawkeye struggled to translate as his eyes watered again.  
  
Brooke turned suddenly and walked over to where Hawkeye was sitting miserably, and wrapped her arms around him to hoist him up. She carried him gently to a tiny bed and cocooned him in warm blankets, rocking him and whispering soothing melodies and brushing his tears away.  
  
After a few minutes, she lay him down and covered him the rest of the way, before planting a butterfly kiss on his forehead. " You'll feel better in the morning."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Hawkeye looked up to his friend, shrugging and smiling nonchalantly. "That's when I first met her. That was twenty years ago."  
  
BJ nodded, and picked up a martini glass of his own, shifting it from hand to hand. Finally, he spoke. "So she was sort of just your creation to comfort yourself after your mother died."  
  
Hawkeye nodded. "I think that's what it started out as. I didn't want to be left alone. And then I got attached to the dream, and it kept coming back."  
  
"That still doesn't tell me why you just ended up on the floor."  
  
Hawkeye smiled and laid back down in his cot, looking up at the tent again. "Beej," he admonished jokingly. "That's only part one in the Crazy Chronicles. My dreams get weirder then that."  
  
"Hawk, you can tell me in the morning. There's supposed to be a lull on and I've got the morning shift. Stop by and we'll talk while I make rounds."  
  
"Ok, Beej." He paused, and then turned to his side to face his friend. "And Beej?"  
  
A low muffled grunt of recognition answered from the cot next door.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ASTERTICKS!! bwa ha ha ha ha!! yes, dearies, I return after a LOONNGG commercial break with chapter four. sorry about the delay.I should be back in the swing of things for a little while anyway. So keep the feedback coming!! 


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